Behind the Lens
by mystorytotell
Summary: Kyouya didn't have the time to add taking pictures of the Host Club to his to-do list, even if it could increase the club's revenue. So, he hired someone else. Shinobu Yamamoto, class 2-B, will take any excuse to pull out her camera. Getting to follow the Host Club around is just a perk...really. Follow's anime's story line.
1. Chapter 1

"Welcome, princesses. We've been expecting you." The doors opened and seven young men stood together, bowing slightly toward the awaiting horde of overexcited young women. The overexcited group of young women which I stood in. I wasn't yet sure how I felt about that. The rest of the girls stampeded into the not-quite-music room and I trailed along behind them, a peculiar burble of excited anticipation and nervous tension messing with my stomach. This wasn't the first time I had attended the Host Club's after school activities, but it was the first time I had attended them without on my own. It had always been Minako dragging me along to these tea parties. However, Minako had graduated the month before so I was on my own today.

While the other girls peeled off towards their various dates, I paused to look around, glad to be back. The idea of a high school host club was crazy, half of the members were some level of crazy and most of the clientele was well past crazy, but I had always found the club soothing. Maybe that meant I was crazy too.

"Princess Shinobu," a cultured tone caught my attention and I turned toward the person who had called my name. "It's been a while since we saw you here. We are happy to have you back."

"Thank you, Kyouya," I smiled at the approaching bespectacled host. "But you know I'm no princess," I reminded him with only a hint of real censure. While every other girl and every host here was class A of their respective grade levels, I was firmly Class 2-B; the lot of the perspective poor. When Minako had first dragged me with her, insisting that I just _had_ to meet the wonderful Host Club, I had felt completely out of place. Minako had been a third year while I had been a first year. That combined with the fact that I was the only class B student there made me feel more like a lady-in-waiting than a princess. After noting the discomfort I felt with the term in passing to Tamaki Suoh, the Host Club's president, the entire club had taken to calling me Lady Shinobu instead. They had never treated me differently, but I felt more comfortable and stopped protesting whenever Minako brought me along.

"Of course, my lady, forgive my thoughtlessness. Though you cannot blame me for my forgetfulness when your beauty is so radiant." Yes, I knew that everything the hosts said was an act, but I couldn't help the blush that rose in my cheeks.

"Thank you, Kyouya."

"I believe you are with Mori-senpai today, my lady. Would you like me to escort you?" He held out a hand in offering and a smile curved his lips.

"That's okay," a deep voice rumbled behind me. "I'm here." I turned yet again to see the oldest host and his slightly younger cousin surrounded by several other girls.

"C'mon, Lady Shinobu!" Honey-senpai bounced while three of his dates fawned over him with adoring eyes. Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai were polar opposites—compliments in every way. Mori-senpai was tall, dark and silent. Honey-senpai was small, bright and talkative. They were the same age and were both third years, but Honey-senpai looked and acted like a kindergartener more often than not. Mori-senpai constantly ran after his cousin, caring for and cleaning up after the smaller boy. He rarely spoke, but Honey-senpai carried on enough for the both of them with his charming babble. The little boy took hold of my hand and dragged me with him, the two of us leading the others to Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai's usual table.

Honey-senpai entertained all of us with his cheerful prattle and the other girls cooed over him, occasionally asking silly questions. Mori-senpai and I quietly sipped our tea, watching the others for several minutes before either of us spoke.

"You haven't been here for a while," he said.

Honey-senpai turned from his conversation and voiced his cousin's unasked question. "Where have you been Lady Shinobu?"

"I've been around," I said vaguely. There was no reason to point out my lack of expendable funds.

"Is it because Princess Minako graduated last term?" he pressed.

"Partly, yes."

"What brought you back?" Mori-senpai asked.

"Minako again," I explained. "She said I had to come for my birthday." My best friend was sometimes silly and frivolous, but she was always generous and gave excellent presents, like this afternoon for instance.

"It's your birthday?" Honey-senpai practically yelled, calling the attention of several others our way and I blushed again. I only nodded, but he jumped up. "This calls for more cake!" he announced and rand off to get the apparently necessary treat. I wasn't going to object, of course; the Host Club supplied the best cakes and sweets.

"Happy Birthday," Mori-senpai said in his low voice. Throughout the afternoon, several people stopped by our table to wish me a happy birthday, including each of the hosts in turn. Tamaki rushed over to wish me love, beauty and happiness with his usual flowery words. Kyouya wished me good fortune. The Hitachiin twins wished me an interesting year with a terrifying double waggle of eyebrows. The new host, Haruhi Fujioka, wished me a good year. Honey-senpai wished me a sweet year as he presented me with a slice of lime cake. "I put extra whip cream on it just for you, Lady Shinobu," he told me with a wide smile.

"Thank you, Honey-senpai," I told him, wondering how he knew I loved the extra sugar. I sat with Mori-senpai for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally making conversation while we watched Honey-senpai entertain their guests. Most of the girls cycled in and out of the room or through the hosts, but I was content to stay where I was. I enjoyed watching everyone enjoy themselves. I noticed Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin teasing Haruhi Fujioka and the smaller boy laughing at their antics. The three of them looked uncommonly comfortable with one another in that moment, as if they all belonged together. Obviously, the twins always looked like a pair, a matched set, but I had never before seen them extend the same sort of belonging to anyone else. I wished I had my camera with me to capture the moment, but I had left it at home. My teachers had begun to get upset with me when I started taking pictures midway through their lectures, even when my camera was only directed out the window.

I stayed where I was until the hosts announced closing time and began ushering us out. "Wait, Lady Shinobu!" Honey-senpai called as I was saying my goodbyes to Mori-senpai. He handed me his beloved pink Usa-chan and ran off, returning only a moment later with another slice of cake, chocolate this time. "Here, you should take this with you since it's your birthday!"

"Thank you, Honey-senpai," I smiled at the small boy as I traded him his bunny for the cake. "But what about the plate?" I had already taken the offering from him, but the plate was fine china, too expensive for the club to just give away.

"You are welcome to take it with you, Lady Shinobu," Kyouya said and I jumped. He was standing at my elbow, but I hadn't heard his approach. "As long as you return it soon, I don't see it as a problem." I knew an advertising tactic when I heard one. Kyouya wasn't just reminding me that I had to return the plate, he was encouraging my return as well which would mean more revenue for the Host Club. I repressed a smirk, twisting it into a smile instead.

"Of course, Kyouya," I said before adjusting my bag on my shoulder and waving to the other hosts on my way out the door.

My phone started ringing the second I stepped into the hall and I smiled, already knowing who it was before I dug it out of my bag. "Hello, Minako," I answered.

"So, how was it?" she asked not bothering to begin with a 'hello'. I laughed at her enthusiasm. "How was the Host Club, Shinobu?"

"It was wonderful, as always," I told her. "Honey-senpai even sent me home with extra cake." I smiled at the slice still balanced on my left hand. "It was the best birthday present ever," I assured her and I heard her tinkling laugh echo across the line.

"Of course it was." She adopted a pompous tone like her tutors had had when we were younger and she was still in school. She switched back to her usual voice. "I'm glad you liked it. How was Mori? I figured I should ease you back into the Host Club. You haven't been to see them since the last time I took you, have you. It's been at least three months, right?" She didn't wait for me to answer before she continued on. "You really should go more. Remember when we used to go every two weeks?"

"Yes, Mina, and then you got engaged," I reminded her.

"Yes," she sighed happily. Her marriage may have been arranged by their parents, but somehow, they had fallen in love.

It was all very inspiring.

"Are you coming over tonight?" she asked, once again alert.

"Not tonight. Hibiki is coming home for dinner so I have to make sure everything is ready before he gets here."

"Hibiki's back?" she asked.

"Well, not yet, but he will be."

"How's he doing at school? Does he like it? Is he a doctor yet?"

"Not for several more years, idiot," I laughed at her. "But he likes it, I think. I'll give you the full report tonight." Minako had had a huge crush on my brother since we were little kids. I don't think that little crush ever went away and she still checked up on him every now and again.

"Perfect! Will you be able to come over tomorrow? I need help!"

"What's the issue now?" Minako was planning a completely western wedding, unsurprising considering that her father was British. He had a big family so she had been to dozens of her cousins' weddings and now she wanted her own.

"The _color_. I had no idea that there was such a huge difference between lavender and lilac." If I was an artist, Minako was a writer. She had always been able to spin the most boring of events into the most epic of tales—in fact I owed last year's passing history grade to hours of listening to her retell the stories of all the people I had previously thought old and boring. Now, I listened to her go over the latest stress of planning a wedding. "She says that lilac and lavender are two completely different statements and I need your help!" she concluded and several minutes.

"I'll come over tomorrow then," I promised. "Can it wait until then?"

"You're a lifesaver, Shinobu!" she exulted. "The best, the smartest, most trustworthy friend ever!"

"Of course, I am," I grinned. "I'm home now though, so I need to be going."

"Alright, say hi to Hibiki for me. And happy birthday!" I hung up as I walked up the front path to my home. We had lived there for as long as I could remember and I loved my home. When Minako had first seen it though, back when we were little kids, she had pitied me. Minako's father was the CEO of a software company and had more wealth than anyone would know what to do with. Their house was large and luxurious and Minako had never known differently. My home wasn't small or shabby by regular standards, but to the aristocracy, I'm sure it looked like a hovel. I didn't care though. It was home and that was the important part.

As my fingers touched the doorknob, it was yanked out of my grasp. "Little sister!"

"Hibiki?" I was engulfed in a bear hug before I could draw the breath to say another word. His grip was tight and he seemed to forget that the cycle of inhaling and exhaling was necessary for survival because he didn't loosen his grip as he spun me around. Finally, I was set back on my feet, dizzy, and quickly stumbled into the wall.

"Shinobu, are you okay?"

"Hibiki, you're early."

"Do you want me to leave?" he teased. He dropped his shoulders and hunched his back, already walking down the front steps and towards the street. "I guess I'll just go then. Bye."

"Get back here!" I shouted at him, catching the grin he tried to hide. "I only meant that I haven't had time to get everything ready yet."

"I've seen to it, dear." I turned to see Hitomi Yukimura, our housekeeper, standing in the doorway and watching us with an affectionate look in her eye. She had been our housekeeper since I was in elementary school. Hitomi was practically family.

"Thank you, Hitomi," I said, "but you've stayed late again. You didn't have to do that." She waved away my words like it was nothing.

"It was no trouble, dear. Besides, I got to have a nice long talk with Hibiki and it's been so long." Hibiki was currently attending university to become a doctor, like our father. My dad worked for Minako's family, the Oshiro's, as their private doctor and had since I was four. My mother was a nurse at a local hospital. With Hibiki going into the medical field as well, many people expected me to follow the rest of them in two years when I graduated. Personally, I wasn't sure yet. However, Hibiki was enjoying his training and for now, that was good enough. Hitomi went home and I let Hibiki regale me with tales of his classes, experiments and wacky lab partner for hours until our parents arrived home for dinner. I was spoiled with all the attention from my family and I didn't mind one bit. It had been months since we had been all together at one time and I had missed it.

It wasn't until late that night when I was preparing for bed and I saw the slice of cake I had left on my night stand that I remembered the Host Club at all.


	2. Chapter 2

"What about this one?" I asked, holding up yet another napkin. Minako hands paused in my hair as she examined the bit of fabric I was displaying.

"Too lacy," she determined and returned to braiding. I held up a different scrap and she paused again before declaring, "Too plain," and returning to the intricate knots she was tying into my hair. Minako's mother had left us with the project of deciding on napkins for the small—though her definition of the word was much different from mine—banquet that was planned for after the wedding. Minako was more interested in deciding how my hair should be done on the special day. I held up a medium between lacy and plain and she hardly hesitated before saying, "Too ruffled." I sighed. It had taken more than two hours to decide on the exact shade of lilac for the napkins and for the past hour, we had been picking through possible textures. After we choose that, Mrs. Oshiro still wanted us to look at tablecloths.

"When I get married, I'm going to elope," I said, pushing the basket full of fabric scraps away.

"Only if you invite me," she answered nonchalantly.

"That kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" Minako hummed before pulling particularly hard on a knot. "Ow!"

"Oops." She didn't sound particularly apologetic. "Shina-chan, let's take a break from napkins, please."

"Yes, please!" I begged. A pair of servants, who likely had been waiting outside and listening for our announcement, entered with a small cart carrying a full tea service. They set everything out for us without our having to ask or direct them, then left quietly. I served myself immediately—really, I should be tremendously overweight—but Minako ignored the spread and continued working on my hair while I sipped my tea. I sat quietly, letting her focus. She had her work and I had a great view out the window.

This window opened out into a little garden which was concealed from nearly every other part of the house. Because of its invisibility, the gardeners had allowed it to grow less formally than the more impressive rose gardens and hedge mazes spanning the rest of the property. The little, overgrown garden was one of my favorite places around the Oshiro estate. Minako had shown me the garden one time when we had snuck away from her nanny when I was about five and since that day, we had spent whole days there in what she like to call Our Secret Garden. Picnics had been had there secrets told and peace and quiet enjoyed when there was nowhere else to go. A year ago, we had found an abandoned bird nest, feathers still stuck between twigs, egg shell chips left behind and an old, faded red ribbon that Minako's mother had lost months before woven through the layers. The gray sky had provided a stunning backdrop and an excellent contrast to the ribbon. The resulting picture was my favorite of any I had ever taken and after having it enlarged, I had had it professionally framed and hung on my bedroom wall. Looking into the little garden at the onset of spring, I watched a tiny bird swoop in and out of the branches of the tree wondered if he had taken over my little, abandoned nest.

"There!" Minako announced, pulling me away from the window. "What do you think?" She handed me her phone, having already taken a picture of the back of my head. My hair and been separated into three braids, then all three had been twisted together and pinned into a spiral on the crown of my head, my color spiraling in and out of the inky black. Switching the camera to the front view, I examined the way the delicate twist looked like a crown from this side. Minako really was quite good at this.

"It's gorgeous," I told her, "but I don't think your parents will like my color showing in any pictures." I prepared her a cup of tea and passed it to her to serve as a distraction for her grumbling.

"But I love your color," she said, obediently taking a sip. I laughed at her childlike complaint.

"So do I," I agreed, "but we have to let them think we dance to their beat, don't we?"

"It's _my_ wedding," she said petulantly. "Besides, it's not like they don't know about it already."

"True, but most people don't know," I reminded her. Most people would not approve of my little bit of rebellion. Her parents certainly didn't and my parents only tolerated it. "I don't think your parents want it revealed at your wedding. Just play along," I added when she opened her mouth to argue again.

"Fine," she muttered. She set down her tea cup and went back to picking through the basket of textured fabrics again, impatiently tossing each scrap to the side without giving any of them much of a look. I looked down to hide my smile from her and my eyes landed on her discarded tea cup. The shadow it created was lengthened by the setting sun and the polished surface of the opposite side cast a reflection on the table. It could have been a good picture if taken from the right angle, but that wasn't what caught my attention. The glint snagged a thought in the back of my head, something I was supposed to do.

"Dang it!" I shouted, and Minako looked up with interest. "The plate!"

"What plate?"

"Do you remember how I told you that Honey-senpai gave me a piece of cake to take home? I still have to give them the plate back. I completely forgot."

"Well, it's only been a week, right? That's not too bad. In fact, you have another week before it becomes a real problem." Her face split into a plotting grin and she pulled her laptop close, quickly tapping away. "But I know how to fix that."

"Minako," I said, a warning in my voice, "what are you doing?" She looked up at me with a smile, then went back to tapping away. Minako had always been the leader of our inseparable duo growing up, and I the willing follower. I had never minded and usually, I benefitted from her decisions and occasional meddling, no matter how rashly she acted. However, that look in her eye always meant she was planning something I wouldn't approve of.

"I'm getting you another date, of course." I made a mad grab for the laptop, but she pulled it onto her lap and spun away from me. "Nu, uh, uh," she sang. "You're not getting out of this. What do you think of this vase?" She turned the screen to face me, but kept the laptop out of my reach, a smirk on her face.

"It's gorgeous, of course," I told her. It would be a crime to lie about such a lovely piece; an antique cut crystal vase that caught the light at every angle. "But don't waste your money."

"I'm not wasting it," she said. "I'm buying a pretty vase that I think will make a lovely centerpiece at my wedding."

"Minako," I dragged the last syllable out and slumped back into my seat, raising my face to the ceiling and closing my eyes in a gesture of defeat.

"Let me spoil you," she said, "as payment for dealing with my bridezilla ways."

"You are not a bridezilla and I am not helping you for pay," I argued, but she cut off the rest of what I was going to say.

"I know you're not. Shinobu." She waited until I turned my face back to her. "What are you going to do otherwise? You can't just hand the plate back to them between classes."

"Why not?" When she began a rant about the social niceties of the high, upper-class, the danger of offending people of such high status as the Host Club gentlemen were, the importance of making strong connections with powerful people, I groaned loudly, having heard it all before. I had spent enough time around the Oshiros and their acquaintances to know how picky the wealthy were about manners. Personally, I thought it was overdone, but I also knew that breaking any of their little rules could spell social ruin. "Fine, fine, fine!" I cut over her speech and dropped my head to the table. "Buy the dang vase." I didn't look up, but I was sure she was grinning victoriously. I silently listened to her type away on her laptop for several minutes, but when she started on about a pretty pair of earrings up for auction, I jumped up and stole her computer. "You're ears aren't even pierced!" I reminded her, running away to dodge her grabbing.

"Yours are!" she argued, chasing me. She forced me out into the hallway and we only barely avoided a collision with her mother.

"Have you decided on napkins yet, then?" Mrs. Oshiro asked, arching her brow at our childishness.

"No, ma'am," we said in unison.

"Well, then, I suggest you get back to it." She took the computer out of my hands, turned and walked away leaving us to ruefully return to the basket of fabric scraps.

Hours later, I was in my own home, in my own room, sitting in front of the mirror and undoing the braids Minako had so carefully tied into my hair earlier, when my phone buzzed. The message was from Minako informing me that she had a new crystal vase and I had a date with the Hitachiin twins on Friday. The Hitachiin twins were always fun so I smiled and replied with a short thank you before returning my fingers to my hair, looking forward to Friday.

The Host Club was all dressed up. Cosplaying was a usual practice for the hosts and always sent the clients into a tizzy for days. Several weeks earlier, I had heard a group of regular Host Club clients swooning and gasping about the host's Bali cosplay. This time though, they were only wearing kimonos, not that they weren't all especially handsome in the traditional clothes. As planned, I was sitting across from the twins. "Our mother designed everything the hosts are wearing today," one twin—Hikaru, if I remembered correctly—explained. The twins were no easier to tell apart than they usual in their identical blue kimonos. "If you see something you like, we can take an order." The Hitachiins' mother was a world famous fashion designer based primarily out of France. Minako would be wearing one of her designs for the wedding.

"Our grandmother even helped us put them on," Kaoru said. Why did two teenage boys needed help putting on something as simple as a kimono?

"But you know," Hikaru added, pulling his twin in close, "the only one who will be undressing you is _me_." Two other girls sat with me at the twins' table and both dissolved into squeals at the display of forbidden brotherly love. I didn't know for sure if the love was real or an act, but I did know the Hitachiin twins had never minded being outspoken or playing with the emotions of others. Being only one grade above them, I had watched them sit together, tearing down anyone around them, since they were little more than ginger bobs. It wasn't until the previous year when Tamaki Suoh and Kyouya Ootori had pulled them into the Host Club that the twins became likable.

I excused myself to stretch my legs and get another cup of instant coffee while the boys continued to hold one another close. When I had first sat at their table, the twins insisted that it was the favorite drink of the Host Club and had insisted that we each have a cup immediately. The initial taste was bitter and sharp, but after I grew used to that, I had to admit that I kind of liked the buzz in the back of my skull of too much caffeine at once. I wanted more.

As I walked across the room, I observed the other hosts. Honey-senpai's kimono was bright, just like him, but was far too big for him and dragged along the ground behind him. It made him look even younger than usual as he ran from one part of the room to another, the robe flying behind him. Mori-senpai stayed in one place, but followed his cousin with his eyes, keeping watch over him. His kimono was a dark blue, nearly black, like a shadow. Tamaki was entertaining young women in a flamboyant, multicolored kimono that had too much going on. The overly busy pattern suited him well. Haruhi's kimono, though, surprised me. I had heard several other young women mention how the young man was as pretty as a girl and apparently, the Host Club had decided to play off that making Haruhi's kimono that of a girl. It was purple and pink and he even had a sweet pink barrette in his hair.

"Lady Shinobu," Kyouya called as I neared him. In theme with the rest of the hosts, he wore a dark brown kimono. Compared to the rest of them, the kimono itself was almost boring, though he still looked sharp in it and drew the eye. He was not entertaining anyone specifically, though he made polite conversation with any young woman who approached him.

"Hello, Kyouya," I greeted him, coming closer. He sat on his own, and appeared to be working, though I couldn't tell what on. Kyouya was always working, either tapping away on his laptop or scribbling in his notebook, but no one seemed to know what exactly he was doing. Maybe he was just doing homework, though somehow, I doubted that.

"We're glad to see you again. I believe this is the second time we've seen you in two weeks."

"How could I stay away," I flirted, mimicking the pretty girls around the room. There had to be some gene for charm built into the genes of the aristocracy because I couldn't quite nail the same sweet tone they all inherently had. "Besides," I added, switching to my usual tone, "I still have something that belongs to you." I pulled out the borrowed plate.

"Thank you," he said, bowing his head diplomatically before taking the plate. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble." I had to take Minako's computer away from her to keep her spending down and had ended up upsetting her mother.

"No trouble," I forced a small smile. Besides, that little bit of trouble was worth another afternoon with the Host Club. He nodded and offered me a serene smile as two girls approached.

"Hello, Kyouya," one said.

"I can't get over how great you look in that kimono," her friend added. While the comment was not untrue, my mouth twisted as I drew slightly back. The compliment-giving girl was Aoi Yamauchi, the daughter of a wealthy man with investments in, among other things, the Ootori Family's businesses. I was certain she was trying to brush up to the Ootori boy for the possible benefit of her family. "Are you planning to release any more picture books of the Host Club?" she continued. _Host Club picture books?_ I had missed something.

"I'm afraid we don't have anything planned at present, ladies," he told them apologetically as the twins' heads peaked up over the top of the screen behind Kyouya.

"What picture books?" I asked a third year girl near me.

"You haven't seen them yet?" she gasped. Without my having to ask, she pulled out a obviously well-read magazine and shoved it under my nose. "They've already sold out. I've bought all of them though so I could let you borrow them sometime," she offered kindly. The magazine she had pushed into my hands had a picture of Tamaki on the front. In the picture, he was giving the camera his signature side-long look with his hand stretched forward. The picture was nearly flawless, but as I looked around the edges, I noticed the markers of unpracticed Photoshop. I opened the magazine with curiosity, but the pictures inside were poorly done. I wondered who the photographer was and what camera they had used. Most of the images were blurry, pixelated or otherwise discolored and in many cases, they were shot at uncomfortable angles with bad lighting. It was too bad the pictures were not of better quality; the subjects really were striking.

I heard Kyouya making similar comments to the twins about the quality and without raising my eyes from the magazine or thinking about what I was doing, I asked, "What camera did you use?"

"Do you have any experience with photography, Lady Shinobu?" Kyouya asked. I hadn't realized I had even spoken, but at his words my head shot up. It wasn't his question that caught my attention; it was the doubt in his voice. I tried to bite down on offense, reminding myself it would do me no good to glare at the wealthy and undeniably powerful boy.

"Yes. Yes, I do." His eyebrows rose at my tone and I lowered my eyes. My mother always did say that my pride would be my downfall. Kyouya opened his mouth to respond, but his eyes slid to somewhere over my shoulder and I turned to see the Hitachiins teasing Haruhi about something and the rest of the hosts gathering while all the clients gazed at the cluster of males with adoration.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies," Kyouya stood, taking his notebook with him and continuing to work as he joined the other boys.

I continued onto the table in the back and was pouring myself another cup of 'commoners' coffee' when the Hitachiins' caught my attention. "Looks like the Host Club has a brand new guest," they said in unison as they were apt to do. Their words hadn't been directed at us, but as one, all the Host Club clients turned towards the doors. It was rare that a girl would wait so long in the afternoon to come to the music room and even rarer to get a new guest. Most of the girls here had been coming for ages. We turned to greet the newest member of our subtly competitive sisterhood.

A girl was shyly peaking around the door and into the Music Room. I didn't recognize her, but she wore the yellow uniform dress the rest of us girls wore so I assumed she had to be a student. I watched, curiously. Most of the girls who came to the host clubs were far from shy. We were more likely to run into the Host Club than to hide outside. The shy girl stepped back as the twins swooped towards her, first one, then the other. From my position, I couldn't hear what they said, but apparently Tamaki could and didn't approve. He appeared beside the girl as well, turning his charm to her, offering her a flower and gently cocking a finger under her chin to turn her face up towards his. I watched from afar, having seen him use the same tactic on plenty of young women, Minako included, and the effect always was instantaneous. I waited for her to melt like all the rest.

She shoved him away, shrieking, "No!"

Every jaw dropped.

No one ever turned down Tamaki. Even if his style of hosting wasn't for everyone, we couldn't help but be drawn to him, at least a little. Certainly, no one had ever pushed the handsome blond _away_. "Don't touch me," she continued. "You're phony!"

Tamaki looked completely unraveled by the unexpected turn of events. "What do you mean 'I'm phony'?" he demanded, distraught.

"Just what I said!" she yelled, pushing her finger into his face. The once shy girl was shy no longer. Without hesitation, she slammed insults into Tamaki without caring about his reactions. As he staggered, nearly every client in the room cried for him, their darling prince. Even I had to admit that the girl was being harsh. Finally, the beloved President/Prince Tamaki fell to the ground in dismay.

As vice-president of the Host Club, it wasn't surprising when Kyouya spoke up next and I wondered if she was going to harp into him as well. I really should have brought my camera today because I didn't think anything like this would ever happen again. "I don't suppose," he said, "you are…"

The girl became momentarily still and drew back into herself as tears welled in her eyes. She whispered something I doubt even the hosts, who were closest to her, could hear, but the short sentence was easily lip-read. I saw her mouth form the words, "It's you," and leaned forward instinctively to see if I could catch what she would say next.

"KYOUYA!" She launched herself forward, bouncing off Tamaki and using him as a springboard to reach Kyouya. She threw her arms around him and all onlookers, clients and hosts alike stood in shock. I had never seen anyone except Tamaki hug the Ootori boy. "Oh, how I've longed to meet you!" she sighed.

 _What?_ The girl had never met him before, but she clung to Kyouya like he was her reason for living. Even Kyouya, who never looked surprised by anything looked startled as she held him around the waist, her cheek pressed against his chest. "My one and only Prince Charming," she sighed happily. With her voice lowered to a more normal volume, I could hear her French accent, though she spoke Japanese fluently.

"Excuse me, my princess," Tamaki wheezed, massaging his ribs as he stood and approached the still joined pair. "But do you know Kyouya?"

"Of course," she said happily. "He's my fiancé."

"I'm afraid the Host Club will be closing early today, ladies," Kyouya announced.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Most of this will be in Shinobu's perspective, but every once in a while, I through in some of Kyouya's perspective. Tell me what you think, especially if you think Kyouya is going OOC.

Renge's interruptions over the last few days had been an annoyance, but they had revealed a market I hadn't yet explored to its potential. Our auctions were going well, of course, but with Tamaki's ideas becoming ever wilder, damages from the twins' antics becoming more disastrous, Honey-senpai's sweet tooth only growing hungrier and the hole Haruhi's first stumble had punched in our budget, we needed more revenue, otherwise we would have to start drawing from the school's budget. I refused to stoop to that. Thanks to Renge's meddling, we had her film which was already drawing in a good deal of revenue, but soon, that would dry up and we needed something ready to sell when the movie was no longer profitable.

The magazines were ideal seeing as they were relatively quick to make and we could do a series of themes with each of the hosts. The only issue with the magazines was that I had neither the time nor talent to produce them as quickly as I needed. Managing school work, the Host Club and my own private investments was time consuming and I could not add another project to my plate without my other, higher priority endeavors suffering as a result. I also had never had time for leisurely pursuits like photography. I could always hire a professional, of course, as Renge had done, but the club couldn't yet afford that cost. I considered assigning one of the club's members, but I didn't trust any of them to do it properly. Mori-senpai would do a well enough job until Honey-senpai needed his attention which meant he wouldn't ever have the time. Honey-senpai would never sit still enough to get a shot that wasn't blurry. The twins would only take pictures of the rest of us at our worst. Tamaki would take the opportunity to harass Haruhi even more than he already did. Haruhi probably had very little experience with photography and wouldn't be able to afford the kind of camera she would need. It would be unwise to add to her debt further—it was unlikely she would be able to pay it off as it was.

There was that girl though. Shinobu Yamamoto claimed she had photography experience and there had been a familiar look of confidence on her face when she said that. However, that didn't mean she was actually any good. It only meant she thought she was good. Surely if she had any real talent, she would have joined the school's photography club. There, she would have had access to cameras and software that exceeded her personal budget.

When Minako Oshiro had first brought her younger friend with her to our afterschool activities, I had of course done the usual background check on the girl. She was class B of her year, not because of her grades, but because of her family's financials. While nowhere near the level of commonness of Haruhi, Shinobu's family's yearly income was a small percentage of most students' attending Ouran Academy and the only reason she was able to attend our prestigious school at all was because the Oshiros paid her tuition. The Oshiros were Mr. Yamamoto's employers of just over eleven years and he had served as their private doctor for the entirety of that time. Shinobu's mother happened to work as a nurse at one of my family's hospitals and her brother was currently attending medical school, though at a different institution than my own older brother was. It was expected that Shinobu would eventually follow her family into the medical field as well. While that didn't seem like the recipe for a talented photographer, stranger things had happened and I found myself once again preforming an internet search for the girl. This time however, I focused on her talents rather than her family.

Within a few clicks, I found that she had not lied to me nor had she overestimated her abilities. She had submitted dozens of photographs to various amateur contests over the past few years and all her submissions within the last ten months had won first prize. I downloaded them all before going back to look through the collection. They left me with a familiar feeling in my chest, similar to the one that grew every time I heard Tamaki play piano. Her photographs varied from shots of nature to skyscrapers to people to simple landscapes. Each was a declaration on the world, more intense than I thought I picture could be.

There was no doubt in my mind that she could fulfill the job I had for her exceptionally well.

The only question was if she would accept.

I dialed Tamaki, reaching only his voicemail. What was the point of having a cell phone if he was just going to leave it lying around and out of hearing? Nonetheless, I left a message informing him that I had found a club photographer and that he would be expected to be with me when we extended the job offer tomorrow after school. Tossing my phone back onto the table, I flipped through the downloaded photographs twice more before sending one last email and retiring for the evening.


End file.
